


Toujours Ensemble

by Linanoreth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Family, Family Issues, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:22:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28319661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linanoreth/pseuds/Linanoreth
Summary: Three generations of Black women and the power of names both given and inherited.
Relationships: Gideon Prewett/Original Female Character, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2
Collections: Harry Potter





	1. Cassiopeia: 1930

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a somewhat winding multi-generational epic where I explore pureblood culture, its erosion, and reflect upon generational differences between mothers and daughters.
> 
> The AU stems from Cassiopeia and Pollux being married instead of siblings and continues from there. The majority of the story will occur in the third generation, whose representative goes to school with the Mauraders and witnesses the first and second Wizarding War, but all three generations are the pillars of this story and intertwine with one another. 
> 
> This is my first fic, so if I figure out that splitting this into a series works better, I might do that too.

Her sister swaddled the newborn as the midwife disposed of the afterbirth. All Cassiopeia could do was stare at the tapestry hanging across from her, mind numb from the concoction of pain potions she had taken what seemed days ago now. 

Her baby was wiped clean with soft hands and wrapped in a blanket adorned with the Black family crest. 

“A girl,” Dorea said smiling, gently laying the babe into Cassiopeia’s arms. “Congratulations.”

Cassiopeia’s eyes focused on the tuft of black hair and red face of a baby struggling for breath between screams.

“A girl,” she murmured, “I suppose Pollux and I will have to try again then.”

Dorea’s face fell, and Cassiopeia felt a pang for her sister who desperately wanted a child but remained unfruitful. 

The midwife placed a new set of robes on the nightstand as Cassiopeia encouraged the baby to suckle, wincing in pain as she latched on. The midwife continued cleaning the bloodied sheets, opening the windows, and airing the room out. 

“If you are ready, I can retrieve your husband and get the paperwork ready.” Cassiopeia nodded her assent. She heard the strained piano music that had filled the house for several hours now stumble to a stop. Men, it seemed, no matter how hard-hearted usually, never knew how to handle childbirth. If it were her, she would try to drown out the sounds as well. 

“Have you decided on a name already?” Dorea asked, eyes never straying from her sister’s second child. 

“Alphard, if it were a boy.” How she wished this child was a son, so she would not have to suffer childbearing again. 

“And for a girl?” Dorea prompted.

“Lyra,” Pollux stated as he strode into the room. “For the music that convinced her mother to allow me to court her.”

“A far cry from Walburga,” Dorea surmised, thinking of the four-year-old who wandered the house in wait of her new sibling. 

“Names have power,” Cassiopeia reminded her tiredly, “and never name your daughter Walburga unless you want a child as equally as stubborn. I think we named her far too ambitiously. Lyra is a simple name, with simple meanings. I hope she is as soft-hearted as Walburga is headstrong.”


	2. Cassiopeia: 1937

Cassiopeia threaded her ringed fingers through Lyra’s black hair, smoothing it over her shoulder. Behind her, Pollux straightened Alphard’s robe, ensuring the Black family crest was arranged correctly over his chest. He was easing out of his toddler years and was mischievous for it, his accidental magic beginning to manifest itself in increasing ways. 

“Walburga, be a dear and stand behind Lyra.” Her two daughters arranged themselves obediently besides the seat that Cassiopeia sat in, holding baby Cygnus. “And Walburga, do smile.” Her eldest turned her sullen expression into something of a twisted sneer. Lyra peered behind her and imitated her sister, turning her bright smile into a snarl, though much less effective with her two front teeth missing. 

“Girls,” Pollux warned, situating himself behind Cassiopeia, Alphard settled on the stool besides him. Walburga and Lyra snapped to attention and faced the camera, their expressions changing into a smirk and a grin respectively. Pollux signaled to the cameraman. 

The family of six waited for the camera bulb to finish flashing and the cameraman to comeback out from under the black cloth. 

“Now was that really so difficult?” Cassiopeia asked as she levitated Alphard back to the floor. Pollux snapped for a house elf to take his heavy outer robe then disappeared back into his office. 

“The lights hurt my eyes,” Walburga complained at the same time Lyra said, “I felt pretty.”

Cassiopeia looked between her eleven-year-old and her seven-year-old, three pairs of winter grey eyes regarding each other for a breath, then decided she did not want to deal with the pair for the rest of the afternoon. 

“Pipsy!” Cassiopeia called. The house elf apparated to her side. “See to it that the two of them are changed out of their formal robes and have them ready for their piano lessons within the hour. Walburga is in need of eye drops, Mentha should work.” She watched as the color drain from Walburga’s already pale face at the mention of the tingling medicinal potion.

“Lady Black, the portraits.” The camera man presented her with several photocopies, but Cassiopeia’s hands were still full with Cygnus.

“Walburga, take one and pack it in your Hogwarts trunk. Pipsy, makes sure she does so.” She turned to the cameraman. “If you would be so kind to take the rest and give them to Lord Black in his study.” As the cameraman began to pack up his equipment and the house elf ushered the girls back to their room, Cassiopeia sighed and looked down at the baby in her arms then promptly remembered that Alphard was still at large. 

“Topsy!”

“Yes, Mistress?” A second house elf appeared at her side. 

“Put Alphard down for his afternoon nap,” she demanded. He was likely grouchy from the overstimulation.

“Topsy hears it, Topsy goes! Master Alphard!” the house elf grabbed the attention of the toddler and led him off.

“Cygnus, it is quite possible you are the only one who does not give me a headache these days.” She sighed down at the infant. “If only I could cast the Contraceptive Charm wandlessly.”


End file.
